Coercion
by Fitzdare
Summary: THIS STORY CONTAINS MATERIAL THAT SOME READERS MAY FIND OFFENSIVE. IF THIS MEANS YOU, PLEASE DO NOT VIEW. Alicia takes a risk to save Cary. Lemond Bishop ups the stakes. (Set after 'The Trial' season six).
1. Chapter 1

Coercion

Alicia crossed the street and approached the Continental parked at the kerbside. Lemond Bishop lowered the passenger side widow. "Good evening Mrs. Florrick," he said. "Please get in."

"You said this was about Cary?"

"Get in and we'll talk." Alicia hesitated. "Do you want to keep Mr. Agos out of prison or not?"

Alicia climbed into the back seat, and the car immediately took off. "Where are we going?" she asked.

"To a meet."

"At eleven o'clock at night Mr. Bishop? Really?"

"I've had a little talk with my man, Dante."

"The witness? The one who incriminated Cary?"

"Maybe he's had a change of heart."

"Is that where we're going? To meet with him?"

"Eventually. First, a bit of business."

"What kind of business?"

"Remember Johnson Cartwright the Third?"

"Yes. You made him an offer and he declined."

"His stable's the number one right now, his horses can't stop winning. They got the best trainers and the best breeding programme."

"So what does this have to do with me Mr. Bishop?"

"I'm going to make Mr. Cartwright another offer, one he can't refuse, and I want you to negotiate the details."

"You know I can't Mr. Bishop. I – we – we don't work for you now."

"So, I've just re-hired you, exclusively for this case. Your firm was acting for me when I made the first approach. So, officially you're just tying up the loose ends. Think of it as a matter unresolved."

"And if I refuse?"

"Please Mrs. Florrick. You want Cary to go back to prison?"

"What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to be your saintly self; sexy lawyer, wife of the Governor, future State's Attorney, a respectable figure of the establishment. Mr. Cartwright has got it into his head that yours truly is nothing but some black gangster wannabe. He's not happy about handing over his life's work to a notorious drug dealer. That's where you come in Mrs. Florrick. You can tell Cartwright all about my legitimate enterprises and all about the generous donations we make to the citizens of Chicago less fortunate than ourselves. And then, once you've charmed his pants off, he'll sign all of his holdings over to me."

"Just like that."

"That's the plan."

"What about Cartwright? I understood he'd been diagnosed with Alzheimer's."

"Heresay. He was fine last time I spoke to him."

"Promise me you'll get your boy Dante to make a statement putting Cary in the clear."

"You have my word."

The house on the edge of town was a large two-storied residence surrounded by woodlands. Inside, the party sat around a large oval table, Alicia, Bishop, Bishop's two bodyguards, Johnson Cartwright the Third, and Deke Sykes, Cartwright's attorney.

"So, you're the wife of the governor?" asked Cartwright.

"Alicia Florrick. We have met before Mr. Cartwright, don't you remember?"

Cartwright looked puzzled and turned to his attorney.

"Of course Mr. Cartwright remembers you Mrs. Florrick," said Sykes.

Alicia thought Cartwright looked much older than the last time she'd seen him, in fact he didn't look well at all. "Do you Mr. Cartwright?" said Alicia. "Do you remember me?"

"Oh yes," Cartwright said, "of course. You were wearing that short skirt. I could see the colour of your knickers."

"Mr. Bishop," said Alicia, getting to her feet. "We need to talk."

Bishop was all smiles. "Excuse us for a moment gentlemen," he said.

Bishop joined Alicia in the kitchen at the back of the house. "What is going on here?" she demanded.

"It's just like I said," Bishop replied. "Business."

"Mr. Cartwright is clearly unwell. He looks as if he's drugged up to the eyeballs. He's in no fit state to conduct his affairs."

"That's why Sykes is here, he has power of attorney."

"That isn't how it works. Nothing we sign today will be worth the paper it's written on. It's coercion Mr. Bishop and it's unlawful."

"Why don't we worry about that after the fact?"

"Mr. Bishop, my advice is to wait. Cartwright's family will no doubt assume control of his assets at the proper time. Make your offer to them."

"Mrs. Florrick, you should know me by now. I don't do waiting."

"Mr. Cartwright has agreed to your offer," said Sykes when Alicia and Bishop returned to the table.

"Agreed?" said Cartwright. "What have I agreed to?"

"I suggest we reconvene this meeting," said Alicia. "How about tomorrow morning in my office?"

"Are you the Governor's wife?" asked Cartwright.

"Here," said Sykes, putting the paperwork in front of the old man. "Sign at the bottom of the page."

"Mr. Sykes," said Alicia, "you are out of order. I think it's time you took your client home."

"Wait just a minute," Bishop insisted, glaring at Alicia. "Let's just sign the deal."

"Okay! Okay!" Cartwright said. "Let's do it!" The old man pulled out a revolver from the back of his pants, pointed it at the head of his attorney, and squeezed the trigger. The shot was followed by a steady trail of blood dribbling out from the cavity in the dead man's temple.

Bishop's men jumped to their feet and pulled out their guns. "Wait!" Bishop cried. "Mr. Cartwright," he said calmly. "Put down the gun."

Cartwright turned the weapon on Alicia. "Are you or are you not the Governor's wife?" he demanded. Bishop threw himself over the table and grabbed hold of the old man's arm. When the gun went off for a second time, Cartwright took the bullet. Blood spurted out from the fatal wound inflicted to his throat.

"Fucking shit!" Bishop exclaimed. "Mrs. Florrick? Alicia? Are you hurt?"

Alicia stared wide-eyed at the two dead men slumped at the table in front of her. The front of her dress was spattered with blood. "I'm fine," she said dreamily.

Bishop turned to his stunned bodyguards. "Clean up this mess," he ordered. "Mrs. Florrick, come with me."

Alicia found herself being escorted upstairs. Bishop showed her into a large bedroom with a four-poster bed.

"Give me your jacket," he said, "and take off your dress."

Alicia was in shock, but she was quickly recovering her senses. "We must call Chicago PD," she said, removing her phone from her jacket pocket.

Bishop snatched the device from her hand and removed the SIM card. "No police," he said.

"We've just witnessed a murder and – "

"And what?"

"It was an accident, the gun went off in the struggle and besides, you were protecting me."

"Yeah right, and that's just how the DA will see it. I think I'll take my chances."

"So what do you propose we do?"

"Nothing. I'll handle it. Here," he said, opening the door of the closet and tossing Alicia a bathrobe. "Take off your dress and put this on."

"No. I'm going to walk out of this house," she declared, "and I'm going home. I was never here Mr. Bishop, okay?"

Alicia marched towards the door, but Bishop caught up with her and stood between her and the exit. "Sorry Mrs. Florrick," he said, towering over her, "but you're staying right here. Now, are you going to give me that dress or shall I rip it off you?"

Alicia gave him her jacket and then retired to the _ensuite_, where she unzipped her dress and put on the robe. Bishop collected the bloodied garment. "You might want to take a shower," he said, making for the door.

Once Bishop had departed, Alicia tried the door. It was locked.

Bishop returned an hour later with a bottle of red wine. "Thought you might like a drink," he said.

Alicia stood to one side of the huge bed, her hands in the pockets of the bathrobe. "How long do you intend to keep me here?" she asked.

Bishop poured two glasses of wine. "Not long," he said. "Once we've cleaned up your dress you can be on your way, providing of course we reach an understanding."

"I won't say a word," she said. "I was never here."

"Excellent," he said, passing her a glass. "So, let's drink to that shall we?"

Alicia took the glass and quaffed a mouthful of the wine. "What are you going to do with the bodies?" she asked.

"Please Mrs. Florrick, don't concern yourself. Everything is in hand." Bishop lowered himself into an armchair and ran his eyes over her. "You know what," he said, "this is going to put our relationship on an entirely new level. I think we're going to be seeing a lot more of each other, especially when you get the DA's job."

With only her bra and panties between the robe and her naked body, Alicia felt vulnerable in a way she never had before, and the strength of Bishop's concentrated stare exacerbated her unease. "We don't have – a relationship Mr. Bishop," she said.

"Oh, but that's where you're wrong. When your investigator Miss Sharma threatened my family she crossed the line. She made it personal Mrs. Florrick. You want personal, that's fine by me." Bishop drained his glass and got to his feet. He took off his jacket and his tie, and moved intently towards her. He placed his hands on her hips and whispered in her ear: "You've never had a black man before, have you?"

Alicia pulled away. "Mr. Bishop, this isn't necessary," she said. "Your secrets are safe with me. Please, let me go."

Bishop grabbed her arm and pulled her towards him, pressing his body up against her. His lips kissed her neck and his hands slid under the hem of her robe and stroked her thighs. "Relax," he said.

She felt her heart racing. She pushed her hands firmly against his shoulders. "No!" she cried, but his kisses kept coming, his lips now searching for her mouth. She tossed her head away from him but she couldn't escape. He untied her robe and locked his arms around her. "No, please," she murmured. One of his hands slipped inside her panties. She closed her eyes, feeling the sensation of his touch, her breaths now coming in shallow bursts. She felt her resistance dissolve, overcome by the power of his ardor and the sudden awareness of her own desire. His lips sought her once more and this time she met them, their tongues seeking each other out. Deftly, he unclipped her bra and threw her down onto the bed.

"I promise you one thing Mrs. Florrick," he said, loosening the belt on his pants. "There aint no going back after this."


	2. Chapter 2

2

"Patience," said Kalinda. "They'll be here." She'd booked them in to a quiet motel downtown, but Dante was getting nervous.

"Every minute I stay here with you brings me closer to the devil," he said.

Kalinda's phone throbbed in her jacket pocket. It was Diane: "Have you seen Alicia? Her daughter called me. She said she expected her home hours ago, and she's not answering her phone."

"What time did she leave work?"

"She was still there when I left and that was after nine."

"So is she still there?"

"No, I checked with the security patrol. Her car's still there, but there's no sign of her. I'm worried Kalinda, this isn't like her."

"Okay, I'm on it." Kalinda made the calls, everyone except the family and Eli. She tried Finn Polmar on the off chance, but no luck. So where the hell is she?

Dante inched back the curtain and squinted out into the night. "Stay away from the window," Kalinda warned him. "Do you want to end up like Lenard and Wagner?"

Another call came through. A familiar voice said: "Kalinda?"

Kalinda felt her blood fizz. "Yes," she said.

"I know what game you're playing." Kalinda opened her mouth but there were no words. "Your friend is here, with me," said the voice.

"Alicia?"

"Call them off if you want to see her again." The voice hung up.

"What's going on?" Dante demanded.

Kalinda made the call. "It's off," she said when Lana answered.

"What do you mean, off?"

"I mean it's off. He's changed his mind."

"Jesus Christ Kalinda!"

"What are you doing?" said Dante.

"Is he still there?" Lana asked.

"No. I don't know where he is. He's running."

Dante rushed at her. "Gimme that!" he snarled, reaching for the phone.

Kalinda hung up and pulled out her pistol. "Sit," she commanded.

"You bitch," he said. "I should never have trusted you."

"Calm down. Do you want to live?"

"He's onto to us isn't he?"

"Yes."

"I'm a dead man," he said.

"Not yet. We have to get out of here. I'll get the car. Stay here. Okay?"

"Leave me the gun at least."

"No. I'll come back for you. Sit tight."

Alicia sat up in the bed covering her nakedness with a sheet. "What's going on?" she said. "Who were you calling?"

Bishop smiled. "That was your treacherous friend Kalinda," he said. "Did you know she was selling me out to the FBI?"

"No," Alicia protested. "She wouldn't."

"Wouldn't she?" Bishop picked up the house phone. "Send up some food and a bottle of Charlie. Yeah, whatever. Make it half an hour all right? You know what I think?" he said, hanging up the phone and perching his naked body on the bed beside her. "I think you'd do just about anything to save your friend Cary." Bishop grasped the bottom of the bed sheet with one hand and began pulling it gently towards the end of the bed. Alicia gripped the top of the sheet and held on to it as tightly as she could. Bishop grinned, slid his body under the sheet, and cozied up against her. "Could be a long night," he said. "May as well make the most of it."

Kalinda made her way around to the back of the building, keeping close to the walls and the darkness of the shadows. She stopped at the corner, partially concealed by the dumpster in front of her and stared out into the night. The car was across the other side of the street. She could see it clearly beneath the streetlight. How many would there be? One or two? Or maybe more. She scanned the area with a studied eye. Something was glinting in the shop doorway twenty yards to the left of the car. She pulled back the slide of her pistol, took a deep breath, and marched purposefully out into the open. A shadowy figure emerged from the doorway. She fired: once, twice, three times, unerringly hitting the target. A shot rang out to her right. She turned, both hands steady, arms outstretched and squeezed the trigger. The gunman dropped his weapon and fell, stricken by the multiple shots to his upper body. Two down. She made her way cautiously to the car and climbed inside. It wasn't until she turned the key that she felt the pain, and noticed the blood dripping off the end of her fingertips.

Lana Delaney stared down at the body in the street. "Looks like the same weapon," said the ME. "I'd say one shooter did for both of them."

"The motel's clear," said Agent Harris, joining then at the scene.

"What about our boy?" Lana asked him.

"No sign. The manager said she heard a disturbance, saw a car take off in a hurry and that's it."

"That's it? What about the car?"

"A dark coloured coupe. She says it was dark and she didn't have her glasses."

"Terrific. And Miss Sharma?"

Harris shrugged. "Nothing."

Lana looked up as a black limousine pulled up at the kerb and a tall figure came striding towards them. "Mr. Governor," she said. "What are –?"

Peter Florrick took her by the arm and led her away out of earshot. "Is this to do with Lemond Bishop?" he asked her.

"I'm sorry Governor I –"

"I'm going to ask you once more," Peter said, his words carrying an unmistakeable menace. "Is this to do with Lemond Bishop?"

"Yes, maybe."

"Which is it?"

"The dead men are Bishop's crew, or at least we think they are."

"You think?"

"Yes."

"Do you know where Bishop is right now?"

"No. Why?"

"Because I think he's kidnapped my wife."

"What?"

"This is strictly between us, and I mean exclusively. She's missing. Chicago PD talked to a guy in the bar across the street from where she works. He said he saw my wife get into a black SUV around ten pm. It's Bishop's trademark car isn't it?"

"Lots of people drive black SUV's Governor."

Peter looked downcast. "I know," he said.

"Is your wife – involved with Bishop?" Lana asked him.

"Of course not," Peter snapped.

"He is a former client of hers though isn't he?"

"I want you to keep me informed," he said, ignoring her question. "and I mean updates every hour on the hour. I want you to find Bishop and I want you to liase with the local PD. And don't think of jerking me around, I've been on to Washington. Understand?"

"Sure."

"Find my wife agent Delaney."

Bishop picked up the ringing phone from the bedside table. "Is it done?" he said. "Slow down. What? So where the hell is she? Listen to me. You will find her and finish the job. Do you understand me? Good."

"Mr. Bishop," said Alicia, getting up and putting on the bathrobe. "You have to let me go. They'll be looking for me, my family, the police probably. What good does it do you to keep me here? Please, let me go."

"Not just yet Mrs. Florrick. Not until it's over."

"I think I'll take that shower then," she said, marching off to the bathroom.

"You do that Mrs. Florrick. You do that."


	3. Chapter 3

3

Alicia walked into the _ensuite_ and closed the door behind her. She opened the palm of her hand and stared at the SIM card. It had been easy enough to retrieve the card from Bishop's trouser pocket while he was busy on the phone, but how long would it be until he noticed it was missing? She hid the card under the eau de cologne bottle in the bathroom cabinet and turned on the shower. She pictured her phone in her mind's eye, lying on the couch where Bishop had tossed it. It was her only chance.

Alicia was about to turn off the tap when a naked Lemond Bishop joined her in the shower cubicle. "Room for one more," he said, pressing himself up against the back of her glistening wet body.

Alicia closed her eyes. Bishop's hands rested on her buttocks, his lips caressing the nape of her neck. She felt the strength of his desire growing against the small of her back. "I was just about finished," she said weakly.

"I'm just getting started," he said, sliding his hands around her and caressing her breasts.

"Why don't you get cleaned up," she said, turning away from him. "I'll go and warm up the bed."

"I'll be right out," he promised her.

Alicia put on the bathrobe, retrieved the SIM card from its hiding place, and hurried back into the bedroom. Her phone wasn't on the couch. Where the hell was it? There was no time to look for it, even if it was still somewhere in the room. She picked up Bishop's phone from the bedside table and scrolled down to a familiar name.

Kalinda attended to the stinging flesh wound to her upper arm and stared ruefully at the jagged hole in her Armani jacket. "Fuck," she said aloud. They'd checked in to another motel, this one close to O'Hare. The droning of aircraft in the sky above them was incessant.

Dante's voice rattled on from the other side of the door. "How long you gonna be? We sure as shit can't stay here. Do you here me girl? What the fuck are we gonna do?"

"Keep it together," she replied. "I'll think of something." Kalinda bandaged her arm and swallowed a handful of painkillers. She removed her phone from her jacket pocket; Lana had already called a dozen times, but this time it was Bishop. "Yes?"

"Kalinda, it's me."

"Alicia! Where are you?"

"I'm not sure. A big house close to the airport."

"Are you okay?"

"I've been better."

"Is Bishop there?"

"Yes."

"What about a name? The house, the road, anything."

"I don't know, but we went west, I think. Somewhere out past Bensenville."

"Alicia – "

"Kalinda, two men have been shot."

"How did you – ? Alicia? Alicia?" Kalinda looked at the phone; call ended. "Does Bishop have a place near here?" she asked Dante.

"What? So now we're looking for the man? Are you gaga?"

"Does he have a place near here?"

"Yeah, there is a place. A big house, maybe twenty minutes from here. I went there once for a collection."

"Tell me where."

Lana got up from behind the desk. "Nothing?" she exclaimed. "What do you mean nothing?"

Agent Harris put his hands in his pockets. "We've pulled every last dime bag hustler off the street. If they know where Bishop is holed up, they aint saying."

Sergeant Murdoch poked his head around the office door. "Agent Delaney, there's someone here you should talk to."

Murdoch showed Johnson Cartwright the fourth into the office. Cartwright took a seat at the desk. "You have some information about Lemond Bishop?" Lana asked him.

"Maybe. I'm not sure. It's my father. He went out late last night and he hasn't come home."

"Mr. Cartwright's father is suffering from dementia," Murdoch said. "He left his house at nine thirty last night with his attorney, a Mr. Deke Sykes."

"So?" Lana demanded. "What's this to do with Bishop?"

"I think he was going to meet with Bishop," Cartwright said. "Bishop has been trying to buy the stud, my father's business, for years. The nurse said she overheard my father talking to Sykes. He said: I already told you Deke, I aint selling out to that – that lousy nigger."

"And you've no idea where your father was going?" Lana asked him.

"No."

"You have an address for the attorney?"

"Yes."

"Get over there," Lana told Harris. "Take the place apart if you have to."

Alicia put down the phone and dropped the SIM card into the pocket of her robe. Bishop walked out of the bathroom wearing a towel tied around his waist. "So Mrs. Florrick, where were we?"

A sharp knock on the door interrupted his train of thought. "Boss, it's LJ," announced the voice.

"About time," Bishop said, unlocking the door and letting the bodyguard into the room. LJ pushed the trolley inside. Bishop removed the cover from the food. "You like ribs?" he said, turning to Alicia.

"No thanks," she replied.

"Champagne then."

"Sure. Why not?"

"You heard the lady." LJ gave Alicia a lascivious look and poured the bubbly. "Aint you forgetting something?" Bishop enquired.

"Oh, sure." LJ grinned and retrieved the package he'd left just outside the door.

Alicia's spirits were lifted when she saw LJ carrying a large square box. "Put it on the bed," Bishop ordered. "Go on," he motioned to Alicia. "Take a look."

Alicia opened the box expecting to find her dress, spotlessly cleaned of dead men's blood. But there was no dress inside. Instead, there were a number of other items; a collection of lingerie in burgundy red, complete with stockings, suspenders, and stilettos.

"Boss," said LJ. "We have to talk." The two men stepped outside. Alicia hurried to the door and pressed her ear against it. "The boys had to turn back," LJ was saying.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"  
"Too much heat on the streets. They couldn't risk it."

"What fucking heat?"

"Chicago PD. Checkpoints, roadblocks."

"Fuck! Okay, we'll take them out to the lake. You stay here and keep an eye on our guest." Alicia retreated to the bed.

"Business before pleasure," Bishop said, walking back into the room and picking up his trousers. "Have some champagne Mrs. Florrick. Make yourself comfortable. I'll be back in a couple of hours. Why don't you put on something sexy for when I get back. Definitely your colour," he said, picking out the lacey burgundy bra from the box and dangling it in front of her.

"When are you going to let me go?" she demanded.

"Be patient. Relax. And remember, we're in this together baby."

Once Bishop had departed Alicia turned the room upside down. No phone. Bishop must have taken it. There was nothing she could do. She sat down on the bed and stared idly at the wall. The curtain hanging between the wall and the top of the bedstead was fluttering, as if affected by a current of air. She pulled back the curtain and revealed a door. She pushed, pulled, and heaved at the bed until finally there was enough room to access the door. She tried the handle and found herself stepping into an adjoining room. Cautiously she looked about her. The room appeared to be empty. She dashed for the exit door and turned the handle. It was locked. There were French doors at the other end of the room. She opened them and stepped out onto a balcony. She heard voices below. Two of Bishop's men were patrolling the courtyard in front of the house. It was no good. There was no chance of an escape from here.

Alicia returned to the bedroom and drew the curtain over the connecting door. Somehow she had to get word to Kalinda, it was her only hope. Think, she told herself. She picked up the house phone. "Yeah?"

"LJ?"

"What?"

"Bring me up some more champagne."

"No can do."

"Mr. Bishop said I was to ask for anything I wanted. Bring me some more champagne."

"Look – "

"Come on, I'll make it worth your while."

"What do you mean?"

"I think I need some help getting into that costume."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, so come on, or are you too chicken shit?"

LJ stepped into the bedroom and locked the door behind him. Alicia got to her feet. "What took you so long?"

"Take off the robe," he ordered.

"Let's have a drink first," she said, pouring two glasses.

But LJ was having none of it. "Come here," he said, striding towards her.

Alicia wrapped her hand around the neck of the champagne bottle. "Look!" she exclaimed, untying her robe. LJ stopped to feast his eyes as Alicia parted the robe with her free hand, giving him a tantalizing look at her partially exposed breasts.

"I'm gonna get me some of that," he said, advancing towards her. Alicia lifted the bottle and swung it against the side of his head with all the force she could muster. LJ tottered, and then fell, hitting the carpet face down.

Kalinda parked the car off the road and made her way on foot towards the house. She moved stealthily through the woods, darting between the shadows of the trees. Behind her, the first rays of the morning sun were lighting up the landscape and the house directly ahead of her. Soon it would be broad daylight. She crouched low when she reached the edge of the tree line and surveyed the scene some fifty yards in front of her. A light was on downstairs, but the rest of the house appeared to be in darkness. There were two vehicles parked in the courtyard, and a couple of dimly lit figures standing outside in front of the house. Only two? It wasn't likely, there would have to be more of them somewhere. Alicia, where are you?

Alicia went through LJ's pockets, found what she was looking for, and called the only number she could remember. "Grace, it's me."

"Mom! Where are you?"

"Listen Grace, I need you to go to the Rolodex and get me the number for Kalinda, Kalinda Sharma."

"Mom, what's going on?"

"Grace, do what I asked you to. I'll explain later."

"But Mom – "

"Get the number Grace!"

Kalinda answered her phone. "Who is this?"

"It's me."

"I'm at the house. Where are you?"

"Upstairs."

"Where? There's no lights on."

"There are no windows. Wait." Alicia moved into the adjoining room and switched on the light.

"Okay I see you. Hold tight Alicia, I'm calling in the Feds."

"No! You can't!"

"Why?"

"I'm implicated – Bishop – he's – "

"What?"

"Kalinda, you have to get me out of here."

"Okay. How many are we up against?"

"I'm not sure, but there are two downstairs."

"I see them. What about Bishop?"

"He said something about going down to the lake. Kalinda, he could be back at anytime."

"Okay. I'll need a diversion, a distraction for the goons downstairs. Can you do something?"

"I don't know – yes, I think so."

Alicia stood on the balcony overlooking the courtyard below. "Good morning," she shouted, stretching out one stocking clad leg on the top of the balcony rail. The two men below turned their heads towards her. Alicia bent forward and adjusted her suspenders. The men were dumbstruck; she had their full attention. She stood up straight, untied her robe, and pushed the garment back over her shoulders. She leaned back, stretching out her arms; the robe slid off and fell to the ground.

Kalinda drew her gun, scurried out from the trees, and sprinted into the courtyard. "Get your hands in the air!" she commanded.

Lana picked up her phone. "I think I've got something," Harris said. "I found a note in the trash in Sykes' study. Oak Meadows Country Club, North Addisons Road."

"Get the chopper!" Lana ordered.

Kalinda persuaded the two sentries, first one, then the other, to climb into the trunks of the cars parked out front. "Nice outfit," she said, as Alicia made her way tentatively down the stairs. "Still, you'd better put this on." Kalinda took off her jacket and passed it over. "And you'll need these," she said, tossing Alicia the car keys. "Through the trees on the side of the road, a hundred yards to your right. You'd better get out of here."

"What about you?"

"I'll manage."

Bishop's car had just pulled up when the FBI chopper hovered directly above the house. Bishop got out of the car and looked up at the heavens. The amplified instructions were predictable: "Stay where you are and put your hands in the air!" A sixth sense made him turn his head and look up at the balcony directly above him.

Kalinda stood there looking down at him, arms at her sides, the gun in her right hand. "It's over," she called out.

"Kalinda!" Bishop hissed. He looked once more at the chopper circling above him, grinned suddenly and went for the gun, drawing it from the waistband of his pants.

Kalinda raised her arm, aimed, and squeezed the trigger.

Alicia answered the door and let Kalinda into the apartment. "Do you two know each other?" she asked, as Johnny walked into the room.

"Yeah," Kalinda answered. "We've met."

"Hello Miss Sharma," Johnny said. "Can I get you something? Coffee?"

"Yes please."

"So this is where you've been all night," Kalinda said when Johnny had disappeared into the kitchen.

"Yes. Grace obviously didn't get my message."

"Have you called –?"

"Everyone. Peter, Diane, Cary et al."

"Good."

"I heard Bishop was shot dead."

"Yeah. Too bad."

"What about – the –?"

"Cartwright and his attorney?"

"Yes."

"The Feds are dragging the golf course lake. My guess is they'll get lucky. Oh, and Mr. Dante is in the capable hands of agent Delaney. I've told Cary."

"So, we're good."

"Yeah. And this," Kalinda said, handing over a plastic bag, "is yours."

Alicia opened the bag. Her dress was inside. Alicia threw her arms around her friend. "I owe you. Everything. Ask me for something, anything."

"Have you still got that – outfit?" Kalinda enquired.


End file.
